


heat of her lungs

by crookedspoon



Series: Tonight, No Poetry Will Serve [7]
Category: Batman: Arkham Knight
Genre: Breathplay, Community: femslash100, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, F/F, Harm to Children, Love Bites, Psychopaths In Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-06 16:32:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4228932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedspoon/pseuds/crookedspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harley could die from the sheer pleasure of watching her. Or, from the lack of oxygen, but that's a health hazard to be expected with Christina.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Salmon_Pink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salmon_Pink/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for #8 "breath" at femslash100's drabble cycle kinks.

The thing Harley loves most about Christina is her enthusiasm. Murder and mayhem really get her going. Then she forgets about the Bat and is all Harley's for a while.

"Oh, Harley, my sweet. Did you _see_ the guy's face when his daughter's head exploded? 'Don't accept candy from strangers,' he said. Hah, what a numbskull! Listen to your parents, kids. Sweets aren't worth losing your head over, are they?" Christina bursts out laughing again, dried blood flaking from her cheeks. She's so beautiful when she's enjoying herself. Harley could die from the sheer pleasure of watching her. "I'm so glad we went there, Harley-pie. Was it fun for you, too?"

Or, die from the lack of oxygen, but that's a health hazard to be expected with Mister— _Miss_ J? Always making sure Harley focuses on nothing but her.

"Oops. I suppose you can't talk like this. Why didn't you say so sooner? You know how carried away I get."

Harley gasps when her throat opens. She expects her trachea to be crushed again but instead, Christina's teeth sink into her neck. Harley's breath hitches in surprise.

"I wonder if your heads pops too, given enough pressure."

Christina thumbs Harley's larynx, leaning so close Harley can almost taste the blood on her.

"Don't answer. Breathe. I like feeling your life beneath my fingers."

Harley swoons a little, spots dancing across her vision.

"Harley, love. I could snap your neck, just like this." Christina grins. "You wouldn't even struggle, would you?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for #6 "biting/bruising" at femslash100's drabble cycle kinks and "You didn't use your safe word so how was I to know what you were thinking?" at 1mw's [weekend challenge](http://1-million-words.livejournal.com/1267644.html?thread=12911292#t12911292).

Harley wakes up aching and alone. Her body is hot and tight; teeth marks pepper her skin, outlined in fading red smears. There are so many, trailing down her neck, her breasts, the insides of her arm, creating patterns on her hips. She can't remember getting half of them. The indentations are gone now, but the bruises remain. They throb with every movement. 

It ain't altogether pleasant, but thinking of their originator makes it so.

"In the end, you did struggle."

Christina walks in, visibly amused. She's smirking into her pocket mirror while re-applying her smudged lipstick. Harley nearly chokes on her beauty. Christina's hair is tumbling around her open blouse, her skirt and pantyhose lie abandoned on the floor. Her pale skin's beckoning for marks of Harley's making.

Christina awards her a tight smile. "I'm impressed."

"You nearly killed me," Harley says, breath faltering. It's infuriating, it's hilarious, but above all it's irrelevant in the face of Christina's praise.

"Isn't that what I do? Take you to that special edge?" She snaps the mirror closed. "Besides, you didn't use your safeword. How _was_ I to know what went on in your funny little head?"

"Very cute." 

Harley doesn't have a safeword. What's the point? Half the time, Christina wouldn't listen. The other half she'd spend exploiting Harley's limits. She already holds too much power over her. Harley won't give her any more unless she asks nicely.

Besides, this game exhilarates her beyond measure. Why'd she ever want to stop?

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the poem "Powers of Recuperation" by Adrienne Rich.


End file.
